Sawdust & Diamonds
by ShyUnicorn
Summary: "We all love to keep secrets, it has the appeal of making one feel infinitely important," said Lucius Malfoy. Anais Selwyn has just returned from Paris. Is she about to become Lucius' biggest secret of all? LM/OC & LM/NM. Rated M for sex and bad language.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **"We all love to keep secrets, it has the appeal of making one feel infinitely important," said Lucius Malfoy. Anais Selwyn has just returned from Paris. Is she about to become Lucius' biggest secret of all? What other secrets do the Selwyn family have? LM/OC & LM/NM. Rated M for sex and strong language.

**Author Note:** Anais is pronounced 'an-eye-es'.

**Chapter One**

"_What is it? My dear?"_

"_Ah, how can we bear it?"_

"_Bear what?"_

"_This. For so short a time. How can we sleep this time away?"_

"_We can be quiet together, and pretend – since this is only the beginning – that we have all the time in the world."_

"_And everyday we shall have less. And then none."_

"_Would you rather, therefore, have had nothing at all?"_

"_No. This is where I have always been coming to. Since my time began. And when I go away from here, this will be the mid-point, which everything ran, before, and from which everything will run. But now my love, we are here, we are now, and those other times are running elsewhere."_

_Possession ~ A. S Byatt_

Selwyn Abbey, solid and stern, sat in the shadow of a thick forest. The surrounding landscape was green and fertile, still sparkling from the most recent spring downpour. A watercolour pink sky tinged with violet and gold had unfurled behind retreating black clouds. Water gushed in the gutters, birds called to one another in the trees and animals cloaked by a dense spray of foliage crashed unseen through the undergrowth. The air was fresh and damp. It smelt of dark, wet earth and worms. This scent was the first thing Anais Selwyn was aware of as she materialised beneath an ornate stone archway.

She caught her bearings and hastened towards the imposing house, her wooden trunk drifting weightlessly through the air beside her. Anais was a tall, pale young woman with thick, glossy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. There was a tense, slightly anxious expression on her face as she strode across a grassy knell towards her ancestral home. She was late and she knew her eldest brother would not be happy about it.

Silently she passed the place where a small herd of Hippogriffs were grazing in the fading evening light before crossing onto a stone path that hemmed the main house.

Pale yellow light spilled from the ground floor windows out onto the honey coloured stone, still oily with rain. Anais picked up her pace as she rounded the corner, walking with long, determined strides. She was already unfastening her travelling cloak as she trotted up the steps to the grand front door, which swung open inwardly as she approached.

The square stone entrance hall was brightly lit and there were hot house flowers in a cauldron sized vase on the table. The soft, civilised sound of a string quartet reached her ears. There were a handful of witches and wizards dressed in smart formal robes sipping flutes of golden Elf-Made wine. Anais edged her way into the hall. She peered around for a House-Elf to take her belongings up to her bedroom and to tell her what exactly was going on. When Anais' eldest brother, Adolphus, had told her he was throwing her a welcome home party this was not what she'd had in mind. She took off her cloak and laid it on top of her trunk, which had obediently set itself down on the ground beside her.

"Anais, you're back!" a chestnut haired wizard wearing an impressively jewel covered cravat called, throwing his arms wide.

"Ambrosius!" she beamed, running into the arms of her favourite brother, who pulled her into a bone crushing hug. They looked very alike, except for their colouring. Ambrosius was darker, more like their mother had been, with reddish brown hair and peculiarly amber coloured eyes.

"I've missed you so much!" Ambrosius' voice was muffled in Anais' hair.

It had been almost four months since she'd last seen him. They'd spent a memorable weekend in Finland visiting a museum full of deadly dark artefacts and getting drunk with the locals while arguing about the best way to skin a shrivel fig.

Ambrosius' hair was a little longer and his robes were more expensive but apart from that he looked the same as ever: smart, skinny and desperate to share his latest gossip. Flushed with emotion Anais threw her arms around her brother's neck and hugged him again.

"Steady on old girl!" he chided, but took Anais' hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Where have you been? We expected you back hours ago!"

"I'm sorry! I had to stay late at work – I know – on my last day, but there was a huge order of Calming Draught that came in at four o'clock and had to be made. Then there was a Portkey strike going on in Paris. It was chaos. I've come via Lichtenstein. I got here as soon as I could," Anais said very quickly. "I wasn't expecting all this," she added gesturing to the guests and the flowers.

"You know 'Dolph, any excuse for a party," Ambrosius said casually, catching two glasses of wine from a passing waiter dressed in pristine white robes. He offered one to Anais, who drained it in one go.

This was not the Adolphus that she knew, but then the last time she'd seen her eldest brother was three years ago when the war with Lord Voldemort was at its peak. Back then there hadn't been anything much to celebrate.

"Is he angry? Merlin, I'm starving. I'm not dressed for this," Anais murmured massaging her stomach and taking another glass of wine from the waiter's tray.

"You don't look bad considering you've come straight from work and had to hop-scotch your way across Europe to get here," Ambrosius remarked. "If you pretend you've been here ages I think he'll swallow it. He's been holed up with Tiberius Ogden and Bertie Higgs most of the night talking Wizengamot business."

"Elladora wrote last month practically gloating about Adolphus snatching up the Bedfordshire seat when Elphias Doge retired," Anais remarked.

"Oh, you haven't heard the latest," Ambrosius cackled gleefully. "He's taken control of the Wiltshire seat too. I'll tell you all about it later. _Tres scandaleux_!" He wiggled his eyebrows for maximum effect.

"I suppose it's a good thing he's so busy with work," Anais sighed, glancing around hoping to spot some morsel of food. "It'll keep him out of trouble. Are you sure he's not mad at me?"

"So what if he is?" Ambrosius shrugged. "It's not like you give a bat's fart what he thinks anymore. You're an heiress, you can do whatever you like. Besides, he can hardly make a fuss with all these people around," he said stepping into the drawing room.

"I do care what he thinks," Anais corrected, finishing her drink. "I've got to live with him and Dora for the next couple of months."

She stopped short of saying just how much she couldn't stand the thought of it because they had drawn level with a waiter holding a tray of canapés. Anais crammed a couple into her mouth.

"You should know they've got big plans for you," Ambrosius said in a low voice, leaning closer to her so there was no chance of them being overheard.

"Doesn't he always?" Anais asked darkly. "Is that why half the Ministry for Magic is here?"

Ambrosius didn't have time to make the quip that was on the tip of his tongue because Elladora Selwyn was sweeping towards them.

"There you are! Adolphus has been looking all over for you," the whippet thin witch with doleful green eyes said in a treacle thick voice. "Cranberry, really darling?" she added doubtfully, eying Anais' silk lantern skirt. "It's a little late in the season for that, don't you think?"

Anais kept her disagreement to a pointed look, which her sister-in-law didn't see because she was off again, tugging Anais along behind her. Dora, who had the long, coltish body of a prepubescent boy and short, shingled brown-sugar hair was wearing a sheer, shapeless smock through which her silk slip was clearly visible. She wasn't a beauty but there was something interesting about her sleepy green eyes, which turned down ever so slightly, giving her a constantly baleful look

"Don't waste tonight," she said giving Ambrosius a dismissive look. "Everyone worth knowing in Britain is here. Your brother and I were just discussing the price of treasure with Millicent Bagnold herself."

"I suppose he was trying to take her spot on the Wizengamot council too?" Anais asked.

Ambrosius snorted. He tried to disguise it as a cough which earned him a withering look from Dora.

"Perhaps he will one day," she speculated, unflinchingly. "He's quite the politician. He's in the garden and I'm sure he'd like to see you."

"Righty-oh," Anais replied, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. "I'll see you later," she told Ambrosius, "if I don't get transfigured into a snail."

"If he asks just say you've been doing keg stands in the cellar with the entire Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch team."

"I don't think he'll buy it, but thanks."

Anais kissed her brother's cheek and began to make her way through the house.

In many respects Selwyn Abbey was the same as ever. The wood panelled rooms with their high ceilings, yawning fireplaces and Axminster rugs were exactly as she remembered. The mounted antlers and stuffed Nogtail heads were still displayed on the walls along with old portraits of family members and ancient wands, too untrustworthy to be used. Yet there was an indefinable sense that things were changing. Anais supposed it was all the bodies dripping with jewels and prominent positions in Wizarding society.

The Selwyns were an old wizard family, occasionally mentioned in history books. Mostly they had been a reserved, traditional bunch who had spent centuries working in Wizard Law or else trying to protect the vibrant magical community in Oxfordshire by sitting on the Wizengamot council, roles which were now filled by Ambrosius and Adolphus respectively. At twenty one Anais was finding it a little more difficult to figure out what she wanted to do with the next hundred years of her life.

Anais popped out into a tranquil walled garden. Paper lanterns had been strung up in the fruit trees and the daffodils, bluebells, crocuses, lavender and camellias had been magically magnified so they spilled from every bower. Here and there guests were standing in groups on the wide stone patio, talking and laughing, their faces softly illuminated by fluttering fairy lights. They were mostly important Ministry of Magic types and Wizengamot elders, all scrubbed clean and glittering with jewels in the hazy pink evening light. The air was heavy and sweet, drowsy with pollen. Anais felt light and fuzzy, as she crossed the flagstones. Her cheeks turned rosy as the warmth of the wine wound its way through her veins.

It was not difficult to spot Adolphus. He was a tall, athletic blond wizard in his late twenties who towered over most of the guests. He was brutally handsome with the same well muscled, hairless, scentless masculinity of an underwear model. Anais had been planning to march right up to him and get things over with quickly, but she hesitated at the sight of him. Opportunistically she plucked a third glass of wine from a passing waiter. With a fortifying sip Anais made her way forward. She was at her brother's elbow before she spoke.

"Adolphus…" she said in what she hoped was a warm, confident voice.

His displeasure was obvious as he turned from his companion. His mouth was set in a thin line and his jaw was clenched.

"Nice of you to show up," he growled, but opened his arm and allowed her to slip in beside him and fold into an awkward embrace.

"I'm sorry," Anais cringed. "This party is spectacular. I had no idea you'd go to all this trouble. I'm sorry I'm so late. I understand if you don't want me here…"

Anais chanced a look up at him from the shadow of his embrace. She hoped she was doing a convincing job of looking down at heal.

"No no," Adolphus said quickly, with a cheer-up kind of squeeze. "There's no need for that. You might as well stay."

She had not expected such magnanimity and was instantly disappointed by it. What she really wanted to do was to take herself up to bed and sleep for twelve hours straight.

Adolphus gave her a quietly triumphant smile as he said, "Actually, I've someone here you should meet."

He'd busted her right away, she realised, and this was how he was going to make her pay. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention to the wizard who'd been politely ignoring them for some time now.

He was also tall and blond, although a startling white blond, which made her brother's hair look dull in comparison. He was leaner than Adolphus but he had the quiet grace of a panther. Anais was sure at a second's notice he could strike hard and fast or outrun the fittest of opponents. He was resplendent in midnight blue robes embroidered with silver stars at the hem and cuffs. His navy dragon hide shoes were polished to a high shine. Anais thought he looked so wealthy he'd probably smell like golden galleons.

"This is Lucius Malfoy. You aren't likely to meet anyone as -"

"- Extraordinarily talented? Devilishly cunning? Astoundingly intelligent?" the wizard interrupted in a languid drawl.

Lucius Malfoy may have been incredibly good looking but his arrogance provoked Anais to add,

"Overwhelmingly modest?"

This got his attention.

His piercing, pale grey gaze jack-knifed into her chest. For a moment, a heartbeat really, as their eyes clashed she couldn't hear or focus or breathe. She felt dizzy, as if falling from a great height. Dazed, she was surprised to hear him say in a deep, velveteen voice,

"She's got a sense of humour. I like that in a woman."

"This is my baby sister, Anais," Adolphus said, a bite of agitation in his voice, as he shot Anais a warning look.

"Where's he been hiding you?" Lucius asked with an appraising look.

"Paris."

"Beautiful city," he remarked in a would-be casual tone, "shame about the muggles."

"Do you think so?"

His flint eyes slowly travelled across her face. She felt a sensation a little like taking a Portkey – a jolt, somewhere deep inside - only hotter and lower down. Dangerous, her mind whispered, as a fierce blush stung her cheeks. This was the type of wizard that witches shied away from.

"Anais is going to be living with Dora and I for the summer," Adolphus explained. "She's moved back from Paris to take on more family responsibilities now that she's come into her inheritance."

"Such devotion to ones family is a rare virtue," Lucius said, his eyes flashing.

They were curiously shaped, thin and triangular and such a pale grey in the lantern light they shone mercury. There was a gleam in them as he looked at her, something molten hot and dangerous darting beneath the surface, like a silver fish in the depths of a pond.

"How do you and Lucius know one another?" Anais asked Adolphus curiously.

"I'm minding his Wiltshire seat on the Wizengamot council while his suspension's being re-evaluated." Adolphus looked incredibly pleased with himself as he took a self congratulatory sip of his wine.

"Suspension? What did you do?"

Anais eyed Lucius curiously, recalling Ambrosius' words: _tres scandaleux_.

"It's a black and ghoulish tale of Death Eaters, Dark Arts and deception," Lucius said silkily, lowering his voice and leaning towards her conspiratorially. Anais' eyes widened and she watched the razorblade smile on his face with quiet intrigue.

He was teasing her. That much was obvious.

Adolphus looked alarmed and emitted a dry, nervous laugh. "He's innocent, of course. His suspension was just a formality," he said quickly.

"I'm up for review. Three years good behaviour," Lucius explained, his eyes still fixed on Anais.

She gave him a polite, somewhat secretive smile and sipped her drink.

Already she thought she had the measure of him: proud, arrogant, though perhaps not without reason. There weren't many wizards who were brave enough to joke about that sort of thing. There had been relish in his voice too, a flare for the theatrical, which matched his elaborate robes. He had been irreverent, but there had been an excitement at the mention of one of the most brutal periods in living memory. Anais had the fleeting impression that he was dangerous but it didn't stop her from asking,

"Are you at Selwyn Abbey often?"

"Almost every morning."

He was the sort of man who didn't want a woman to demonstrate her feelings explosively, but wanted to know they were there all the same. Anais felt him peering into her heart to see if she would be that sort of woman, that sort of lover. She could feel herself bending out of shape to better suit him.

"Your brother takes my constant meddling surprisingly well," Lucius said affably, his eyes hot against her cheek.

"Nonsense," Adolphus insisted. "We hardly differ on anything, and if we do, well, you love a fierce debate. As you can see, Anais, we've become fast friends."

For the merest of seconds Lucius looked both surprised and triumphant. He mastered himself and his expression returned to neutral haughtiness but Anais hadn't missed it.

"Ambrosius likes him too," Adolphus added, as if this settled things. "The two of them can talk Gringotts and treasure until the Hippogriffs come home."

"You should know I plan to monopolise your attention for the rest of the evening," Lucius said silkily. "I could do with another drink. What do you say?"

That sly ghost of smirk returned to his lips, which made Anais' stomach roll over like a wave. His fingers lightly brushed the back of her elbow and a shivery quaver shot all the way up her arm like lightning to her heart.

"I suppose it's my family duty to form an objective opinion of you," she said slyly.

"Indeed," Lucius agreed, not missing a beat, his eyes alight with humour.

Anais allowed herself a real smile this time. Unable to bear the brilliance of his eyes for a second longer she looked down. Her golden hair slipped free from behind her ear as she bowed her head, veiling her face as she stroked her hand through a large stone basin full of pink hydrangeas. Her heart was racing in her chest like a jackrabbit pursued by a fox. She took a sip of her drink and tried to shake the comets from her mind.

"I'll leave the two of you to get better acquainted then," Adolphus said breezily. "I'll see you in my study before bed," he added pointedly to Anais.

Clearly she wasn't off the hook but she could worry about that later.

Anais watched Adolphus cross the lawn to join Dora, who was terrorising a small band of witches and wizards. Anais half wanted to call Adolphus back. She didn't trust herself to hold a decent conversation with Lucius Malfoy in her flustered, tipsy state.

"Tut tut," Lucius purred at once, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "Late to your own party."

"Better late than never," she chimed.

"What kept you?"

"Real life."

"And this isn't?"

"It's not mine."

"I think 'real life' is what your brothers have been protecting you from," Lucius said astutely, leading the way across the dewy lawn. "Isn't that why you were in Paris?"

Anais marvelled at his keen mind. Lucius Malfoy didn't waste any time. She was sure that her evening was about to get a lot more interesting. However, her appreciation of his company did not stop her from folding her arms defensively across her chest.

"It wasn't a secret," Anais said mildly, forcing herself to look away and take in the vivid colours of the flowers: soft lilac, zingy yellow and creamy white.

Had it always been this _alive_, she wondered, sucking in a refreshing breath of cool air that she hoped would clear her head.

"Ah, but we all love to keep secrets. It has the appeal of making one feel infinitely important."

He was the brightest thing in the garden. Everything seemed dim after the luminescence of his silver eyes, Anais thought, as she found herself arrested by that mercurial sheen once more.

"I don't have any secrets," Anais said plainly, though this was obviously a lie.

"Perhaps not now. But soon you will." He said it with supreme self confidence, like a prophet.

The smile that was playing around his lips seemed to say: how young and fresh and naïve. The gleam in his eyes belied his intentions. With her pink cheeks and shinning eyes, he wanted to take her there and then, rushing her back against the slippery stone floor. He wouldn't mind hurting her, just a little. He wanted to hear her cry out. He would enjoy the surprised pleasure-pain of her expression as held her down and charged, too roughly, into her.

Anais looked at him levelly before raising one eyebrow quizzically at him. Was she supposed to be intimidated or turned on by that fantasy?

"What did you do while in Paris?" he asked so smoothly, so politely that it took Anais a long moment to reply.

"I worked at l'Hospital de Pierre Bonaccord as a Potioneer," she said, though she couldn't help feeling that this wasn't exactly what he was asking her. "Hardly reason for an Advanced Guard or a Fidelius Charm, don't you think?"

A small smile upturned his mouth. He exchanged her empty glass of wine for a full one as they stopped beside a spotty, gangling waiter with red hair, who was trying to look impassive, but instead just looked bored.

"Why not St. Mungo's? Why go all that way?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Mr Malfoy," Anais countered genially but she was beginning to feel a bit like she was being interrogated.

"Call me Lucius," he insisted. "You're deliciously remote and you've made some interesting choices. I'm intrigued."

Anais kept her face impassive but felt herself looking at him shrewdly. She couldn't help feeling there was a little more to it than that. She wondered how much Adolphus and Ambrosius had said about her.

"I moved to Paris because I wanted to see a bit more of the world."

This was not exactly the truth.

"How worldly have you become?" Lucius purred with an arched eyebrow that made Anais' stomach coil and uncoil in quick succession.

She laughed, almost out of relief. He was definitely flirting with her now, so she replied enigmatically, "Worldly enough."

Lucius didn't smile but his eyes softened. A good answer, he seemed to say.

"Let's keep moving. We don't want to pick up unwelcome orbits."

He looked warily in the direction of an immaculately dressed witch carrying a large, boxy camera. She was wearing a lanyard with a card clipped to it that read:_ Daily Prophet Photographer_.

Lucius placed a hand on the small of Anais' back and steered her away from the light and buzz of the party. That guiding hand at the base of her spine was all she could think about as they walked a deserted path into a silent corner of the garden. The air was thick with the scent of lavender. The sky overhead was deep indigo and above the hills stars were burning brightly. Anais felt a great connectedness to her ancestral home and those distant English hills. It was good to be home.

"What will you do now you're back from France?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided yet," Anais admitted. "I plan to rest, read, catch up with old friends and brew some experimental potions."

She felt weightless like a balloon, as if she was floating. The only thing keeping her grounded was Lucius' hand, which remained at the small of her back.

"I've a large collection of ancient Nordic potions manuscripts. They might be of interest to you. You're quite at leisure to come to Malfoy Manor to read them," he offered.

"Could I?" Anais asked brightly, a little surprised by his generosity.

"You'd be very welcome," Lucius assured her.

Once more she had the impression of something flashing beneath the surface of his eyes. She wondered if he wanted to trap her in his manor and eat out her heart, just like a story by Beedle the Bard. It was hard to be sure. They had come to the farthest corner of the garden, which was almost black, lit only by a handful of fairy lights. A thick silence had descended occasionally punctured by the rustling of the wind sliding through the leaves of the trees.

"Have you ever been to Denmark to see -"

"- the woodcuts of Iofur the Ingenious' book on early Nordic medicine? Yes," Lucius intercepted, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. "Did you ever visit Ragmar Ragnison's Repository -"

"- of Dark Artefacts, in Finland? Ambrosius and I were there last winter!"

"Did you see the jinxed Taxidermy? Deeply impressive, don't you think? I was never much perturbed by racoons until I saw what effective dervishes they can become. Ever been to Norway?"

Anais shook her head. "One of my great-grandmothers was Norwegian so I really ought to have been."

"You should go. I travelled cross country by broom once. I'd been curious about Polar magic since I was a boy - and I wanted to see the Aurora Borealis. It was insanely beautiful."

The hushed reverence of his words stilled Anais. She looked at him with renewed curiosity.

"I lived with a small nomadic community on the edge of the Barents Sea," Lucius explained. "They taught me how to read the weather, to sense magic in the air, to reveal hidden things. When you live in a world of white you begin to see how many subtle shades it truly has. Magnificent place, the North."

"On a still night when the wind is down the silence wakes you. You can hear your heart beating and the blood pulsing through your veins. And the seals. They make the most inorganic sounds."

"What do they sound like?"

"Like stars turning in the heavens. Only it rises through the ice and you realise there's a secret world beneath you."

A slow, entranced smile worked its way across Anais' lips. She could feel the heat radiating from Lucius' body, could smell a primal, minty scent rising from his skin, so masculine and virile it started a warm throb like a second heartbeat deep in her body.

"What was it like, seeing the Northern lights?"

"There wasn't a whisper of wind that first evening. The sun set, the snow and the sea lay quiet. Such blissful silence!" he said in awed voice so quietly that she had to watch his mouth form the words to be sure she didn't miss anything.

"Even the polar bears were mystified and they have the most delicate ears imaginable. As an inky darkness seeped out across the sky the moon ascended. Arches and swathes of turquoise appeared above the mountains. They curved sinuously overhead like tapers, cracking like whips in the frozen night air. It lasted about twenty minutes, this celestial dance. When it was over the sky was filled with vapour like broken clouds."

Anais looked up at the darkened sky, at the belt of stars burning brightly and tried to imagine such a sight. When she looked at Lucius she wondered what it would be like to touch him, what snowy world lay undiscovered beneath his clothes. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she realised how close they were standing to one another.

"Tell me a secret," he murmured.

Anais gave him a questioning look. Did he expect her to spill her soul so easily?

"I didn't want to be here tonight until I met you," Anais breathed, smiling in the half-dark.

Lucius smiled, a slow, crocodile smile, his eyes glinting like chips of ice in the semi-darkness. He thought her heart was in his teeth and he could bite down if he chose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note:** Anais is pronounced 'an-eye-es'. Thank you to Katy and Charlotte for beta reading.

**Chapter Two**

Anais found herself drifting from the potion she was brewing to look again at the bouquet of blush pink roses in their glass vase. She chose a teacup sized bloom from the centre of the spray and skimmed the petals lightly over her lips, a secretive smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She could have sung she was so happy, but loud noises still hurt her head.

It was the morning after the party and she was standing in the kitchen at Selwyn Abbey a little worse for wear. It was a slow moving, grey day. The House-Elf was at the stove preparing lunch and the radio was tuned to the Wizarding Wireless Network. Tilden Toots was talking about the best plants to grow in stubborn, chalky soil but Anais wasn't listening. She hadn't been able to focus on anything for very long. Even before the roses had arrived.

They'd been delivered by a magnificent eagle owl about an hour ago, separate from the normal household post. The flowers had been tied with silk ribbon and came with a small card trimmed in gold, which was now in Anais' pocket. _To Anais_, it read, _from a passing Polar Bear_. A smile crept to her mouth just thinking about the message written in small, sharp cursive script.

There was a distant echoing bang, a door slamming shut somewhere in the house, which made her flinch. Anais replaced the rose and returned to her potion. It now had a glossy, viridian hue and was emitting curls of green-black smoke and giving off a heady peppermint scent. She tentatively poked it with a silver spoon. At the same time the kitchen door swung open.

"Ah, here you are," Adolphus said somewhat breathlessly. He was still wearing his travelling cloak and a cream and green woollen scarf, a lot like their old Slytherin House ones. His hair was windswept, which made him look even more 50's-prep than usual. "Will you join us for lunch?"

"Alright. Let me just take this off the heat," she said, trying to keep her voice light and easy.

Anais and Adolphus hadn't had their little chat about her lateness and she was keen to keep it that way. By the time she'd come in from the garden last night he'd already gone up to bed. She'd stayed out there for hours and hours, walking with Lucius until they'd been the only ones left and she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Already half in a dream she'd fallen into her childhood bed and surrendered to sleep.

"What are you making? It smells delicious."

Adolphus came up behind her and peered over her shoulder into the cauldron at the verdant, treacle thick concoction.

"It's just something I've been playing around with," she said, spooning it into a square mould a bit like a cake tin. "It's medicinal soap. It prevents spots and evens skin tone – and apparently helps with hangovers too."

"Where did you find the recipe?" Adolphus asked, leaning back against one of the countertops. He foraged in his pocket and produced a packet of cigarettes and a bronze lighter. "Is it an old Sacharissa Tugwood?"

"Sort of," Anais said, scraping the thick foam from the sides of the cauldron. "I adapted her basic soap potion. The rest is my creation. It's a work in progress. Designing toiletries has become a bit of a hobby."

This was an understatement. Over the course of about two years Anais had filled two leather bound notebooks with ideas, adaptations and new inventions. Her curiosity about potion-making and the beauty industry was what had driven her to travel across Europe niffling out rare plants and investigating obscure claims.

"Not in here Master Adolphus," the house-elf, Lacky, insisted in her shrill little voice as Adolphus lit up and curls of blue smoke filled the air. "You'll spoil the lunch."

He pulled a face but did as he was told. Lacky was appeased and returned to her cooking. She was small, even for House-Elves, wearing a pale blue floral pillow case and a look of happy servitude as she chopped and mashed and mixed.

"I noticed you spent a lot of time talking to Lucius Malfoy last night," Adolphus remarked.

Oh here we go, thought Anais, expecting to be berated for a long list of misdemeanours he'd taken note of – the first of which was sure to be talking to Lucius Malfoy for too long. Dora's little _carpe_ _diem_ speech sprang to mind at once.

"Yes," she agreed curtly. "He sent me those flowers," she added, casually gesturing at them with her spoon.

"He's very charming. How did you like him?"

"I liked him very much," Anais said, trying to keep her voice light and impassive as she carried her tray of soap to the cooling cupboard. She could feel Adolphus scrutinising her, trying to deduce more from her short response, but that was all she was going to give him.

"Good," he said at last. "Did you see the _Prophet_ this morning?"

"No, why?"

"Turn to page 18."

Adolphus pulled a newspaper out from under his arm and tossed it to her. Anais deftly caught it. She shot her brother a suspicious look but shook the paper out and riffled through it. There, on page 18, was a large picture of her and Lucius Malfoy. The lurking photographer had evidently got exactly what she was hoping for. There they were in black and white turning to one another, deep in conversation and walking into the distance together. In the picture they looked grand and striking. It was quite bizarre seeing herself as an outsider.

"He's going to be so annoyed. He was determined to avoid the photographer," Anais sighed, as she skim read the article: Ancestral home, Selwyn Abbey… over a hundred specially invited guests including the Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold… Elf-Made wine reception…

"Don't worry about him!" Adolphus scoffed. "If he didn't want that picture released he'd have had it stopped. He's not the sort of wizard the press can afford to mess with."

"Why? What happened?" Anais asked out of curiosity, setting the newspaper down on the scrubbed wood table.

"Two years ago he sued the _Prophet_ for vault load of gold. _Defamation of character_. They printed a pretty speculative article about whether or not his story was true – about whether he'd been bewitched or an actual Death Eater. Stupid really, you don't want Lucius Malfoy as your enemy."

Anais stiffened. "But the Wizengamot found him innocent?"

"His case didn't go to the Wizengamot," Adolphus scoffed. "No need. Crouch was satisfied he was telling the truth. Lucius took the _Prophet_ straight to court and won," Adolphus finished. "Shall we go up to lunch? I've brought a couple of people back with me."

"Is this bad?" Anais asked slowly, passing the newspaper back to him.

Adolphus gave her a thoughtful look as he weighed up his reply. The Selwyns had worked very hard not to openly associate with anybody remotely linked to the Dark Lord.

"No," he said at last. "It isn't bad. At least not for us. Now, come on. We've got guests."

He held the kitchen door open for her and together they began to make their way through the house.

Selwyn Abbey had once been a muggle nunnery but somewhere during the sixteenth century the Selwyns had taken up residency. Whether the nuns left of their own accord or had been kicked out was still up for discussion. From the outside the hulking honey stone building looked huge, but appearances were deceptive. The house was square, with a grassy inner sanctuary at its heart. Nibbling further into the living space was a wide set of cloisters, open to the elements. As Adolphus and Anais crossed through she swaddled herself in her crochet cape, pulling the soft purple wool tightly around herself and folded her arms across her chest.

The habitable part of the house was a series of long, reasonably thin, interconnecting rooms with high ceilings that framed this internal garden. Only the north side of the house had been made big enough for a comfortable upper floor, which meant three quarters of the upstairs rooms were rambling attics. As children the Selwyns had spent a lot of time up there, building dens and playing unhindered by adults. They'd finally had to relocate when puberty hit and all three of them became exceptionally tall.

The public part of the house ran the length of the north wing and comprised the formal reception room, grand dining room, parlour and reading room. It was this suite of rooms that had been used for the party the previous night. Today they looked dark and dowdy once more, a living museum of Selwyns past and present as the siblings paced quickly through them.

The formal reception room was shadowy. On gloomy days the ceiling to floor windows did little to let in enough light at this time of day and the gas lamps had to be lit. The room was panelled with dark wood and hung with many paintings, some of old family members, some of quaint English landscapes. It smelt of beeswax and silver polish and dust in the heavy moss green velvet curtains. Someone had set a record playing on the old enchanted gramophone with its golden horn shaped like an engorged snapdragon. The brassy music squiggled and spiralled like bicycle wheels in the air. It was Dora who was playing the role of DJ. She was half bent over wiggling another vinyl from its case, a cigarette in hand. Today she was wearing a navy blue silk turban and fuchsia silk trousers so expansive Anais had thought she was wearing a skirt.

"So you found her," Dora said, her words falling as slowly as honey from a spoon. "We were beginning to wonder…"

She let her words trail off, as if she was already bored of talking about Anais, and took another drag on her cigarette.

"I was in the kitchen brewing," Anais said coolly.

"Ah, this must be Anais. We've been hearing all about you," said a big, stout witch who exuded a kind of genial robustness as if ready to wholeheartedly engage with whatever activity came her way. "I'm Amelia Bones."

She stuck out a large, stubby fingered hand for Anais to shake, which she did. "Pleased to meet you."

Amelia nodded jerkily. She had short, brown flyaway hair and all her features were bold and strong. She reminded Anais of the actresses from silent movies, whose faces were always striking rather than beautiful.

"Anais, Yaxley you know. Rufus Scrimgeour, and this is Tiberius Odgen," Adolphus said, nodding to the two older wizards sat on the sofa. "Tiberius and I are on the Wizengamot council together. He's just about to become Head of the Law Enforcement Patrol."

"Oh," Anais said quietly. "Nice to meet you," she smiled, but couldn't help wondering what Adolphus was up to. Ogden was a new addition to what was usually a closed circuit of old alliances and family ties.

"How'd you do?" Tiberius Ogden said, tipping his hat to her. He spoke in a thick Northern accent and was wearing tweed. He had a smooth, sleek beard, small mole-like eyes and his fedora hat had a pheasant feather jauntily poking out.

Rufus Scrimgeour, a lion faced warlock, raised his glass to her but turned his attention back to Tiberius. Scrimgeour had been a friend of Anais' father. They had both disagreed with Bartemius Crouch's ruthless stance on fighting the war.

"Do you want a drink?" Adolphus asked Anais.

Anais shook her head. Adolphus strode over to a teak table laden with drinking paraphernalia. He tapped a teapot with his wand, setting the spout steaming and poured himself a cup of tea. He also made a cup of peppermint tea, which he thrust at Anais. She took it grudgingly. He must have made it for her because it looked like she needed it. She was about to slink off to lurk in the corner when Ophiuchus Yaxley blocked her way.

"Long time no see, Blondie," he said in his gruff, sandpapery voice while leering at her.

Yaxley was always either leering or scowling - sometimes he did both at the same time, but that was usually only after snorting excessive amounts of Sneezewart Powder. He'd been Adolphus' best friend since their first train journey to Hogwarts. From then on he'd been an almost constant leering, scowling fixture at Selwyn Abbey, eventually bringing Dora along with him. She was his older sister and so Anais and Ambrosius held him responsible for making the Yaxley-Selwyn union eternal.

"Yaxley," said Anais with a smile more like a grimace. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well for myself," he intoned. "I hear you've had enough of France. Got your sights set on something a little closer to home, eh?"

Anais didn't quite see what he was getting at. The knowing look pasted across his snub, pug-like face was lost on her.

"Still working for the Law Enforcement Patrol?" she asked, just for something to say.

She hoped she wouldn't get stuck next to him at the lunch table.

Eventually, after an almost painful five minutes of small talk, Lacky struck the dinner gong and they all made their way through to the dinning room. Seven places had been set at one end of a very long, walnut table and seven bowls of onion soup sat steaming. Anais hung back waiting to see where everyone else would go. She took her chances and sat down beside Rufus Scrimgeour.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you," Rufus said, turning to Anais as the meal began, "I hope you won't take this the wrong way but you have the look of your father."

"Really?" Anais set down her spoon and turned towards him. He gave off a toughness, a kind of indifference, which she knew he had acquired through years of working to catch the worst of wizardkind.

"Thank you for saying so. We don't really talk about him because of how he died..."

Anais glanced at Adolphus who was happily keeping court at the opposite end of the table. Anais had been fifteen the year both of her parents had died. Her mothers' death had been expected, she'd been ill, and as much as Anais hated to admit it, her passing had had been a relief to them all. Rannulph Selwyn's death, however, had been the opposite.

"Forgive me," Scrimgeour apologised, shaking Anais from her maudlin thoughts. "We lost a lot of old families during the war. I hope I haven't upset you. I was very grateful to your father. He was the one who gave me my start in the Ministry."

"No, it's alright," Anais assured him, though her voice sounded distant and shaky. She laid a hand gently on Scrimgeour's wrist. "I don't mind. It's good to know that someone else remembers him well."

Rufus contemplated the hand she's place on his arm with his yellowish eyes. Her young, slender fingers contrasted sharply with his sun toughened skin. Feeling foolish for showing tender emotion to a cynical warlock, Anais drew back from him. He looked at her through his wire rimmed glasses with something that could have been affection.

"Smashing soup, Adolphus," Amelia commented heartily. "Absolutely fantastic."

There was a general murmur of agreement.

"Our House-Elf will be pleased to hear that," Adolphus said graciously.

After the soup came the main course of roasted chicken with orange salad. The whole room was filled with the delicious smell of roasted meat, juicy and aromatic, as curls of lemony steam twisted in the air. Adolphus carved and everyone tucked into chunks of blood orange, tangles of watercress and dashes of pomegranate, which were warmed by the thickly cut pieces of delectable meat.

"What's happening in the world of the Wizengamot, darling?" Dora asked, as she paused to take a sip of water from her crystal goblet.

"More of the same, really," Adolphus said airily, as he cut into his roast chicken. "More talks of harsher punishment for breaches of the Statute of Secrecy in the counties and a whisper of Wizengamot reform. Apparently we don't have enough muggleborns on the council."

"I didn't think there were _any_," Amelia Bones said bluffly between mouthfuls, but looked heartened that she'd apparently been proven wrong.

"There aren't," Tiberius Ogden told her gently.

"I thought the Bagnold government was conservative when it came to that sort of thing? I mean, with the war not long over, it's not surprising," Anais piped up.

"They're being prompted to change with the times, as they say," Rufus said, giving Anais a rueful look. "Public opinion is starting to shift these days."

"They don't want to be seen as agreeing with the Dark Lord's stance on blood purity," Yaxley leered. "Wouldn't be good for their reputations, now would it?"

"How would they go about implementing that? Could they even enforce something quite so biased towards one portion of society?" Anais asked.

"I think it would be a jolly good thing to have muggle-borns sitting in the benches," Amelia Bones said at once, flourishing her fork. "A wizard is a wizard, after all. It's a matter of equality. A fresh pair of eyes and some enthusiasm for Wizard Law would be very valuable to the council, I'm sure."

"That's a very generous view, Madame Bones," Scrimgeour remarked.

"Too generous," Yaxley scowled.

"I agree that the Ministry is moving in the right direction," Scrimgeour persisted. "But Elders of the Wizengamot… it's difficult. For me it's more a cause of culture than of blood purity – I think members themselves should, perhaps not be muggle-born, but one or both of their parents may very well be."

"I think there's no reason why a muggle-born couldn't fit a cultural criterion," Tiberius intercepted, with a genial laugh. "You're talking about education, Scrimgeour! Why, any bonny witch or wizard who goes to Hogwarts gets a full emersion in our culture."

Anais watched with interest. Ogden's view point was surprisingly liberal to her. It also made it less clear as to why Adolphus was deliberately befriending him. As Ogden spoke Scrimgeour made every outward expression of being about to disagree.

"I think it's entirely possible not to," Rufus said, hastily swallowing his mouthful of food. "Muggle-borns should be better integrated into society. We see it all the time, those on the edges of society are most likely to be repeat offenders – no sense of belonging, you see."

"Rufus isn't talking about learning History by rote, Tiberius," Adolphus said, joining the debate. "Before you can represent a community you have to be an active part of it. Now, I grant you a muggle-born witch or wizard could do that but it could take a lifetime to earn the trust of the community! It's deeply important to all the mages in my constituency that I know their points of view - that I understand where they're coming from. For example, when they tell me they're pro-magic carpet travel they want me to know that they're not just doing it to be awkward, that there's a reason – a practical reason – that deserves being voiced."

"Exactly," Yaxley said emphatically. "Council members should be from a _select_ group of Pureblood families, who have claim to the land, who know the customs of the county, who know the constituents and so are best suited to representing their rights and needs."

He counted off his stipulations one by one on his fingers.

"Ho ho," Tiberius laughed hollowly. "That's a tall order, Ophiuchus. I don't know how realistic that would be these days."

"Or how necessary," Amelia Bones added, with a disapproving look at Yaxley.

"Is it even possible to know all the ways and customs of one county?" Anais asked, looking coldly at Yaxley. "When I was little sometimes I'd go and visit people's homes with my parents. And I was forever hearing new folktales and magical lore – allsorts of things – that none of us had ever heard before. Adolphus is minding_ two_ other counties now. Do you really think it's necessary for him to know every bit of Bedfordshire and Wiltshire lore to be good at his job?"

"He's certainly trying to know some," Dora said sharply, defending Ophiuchus' point of view. "Someone without magical heritage simply doesn't have the kind of authority to lead those that do."

"But there are so few old families anymore," Rufus reminded her. "We lost the McKinnons, the Prewetts and the Blacks – all old governing families."

"When an old family dies out what happens to their Wizengamot seats?" Anais asked. "What happens when someone resigns or gets suspended?"

"Admission to the council isn't hereditary," Adolphus said, with a wave of his hand as if trying to bat away a fly, "though it can feel like that. Old wizarding families, like ours, tend to sit on the council for generations out of a loyalty to their home county. I do it out of a desire to see the magical inhabitants of Oxfordshire are well looked after and well represented, just like all the Selwyns did before me. Even though we've been here for going on four hundred years I have to be elected like everyone else."

"Very noble," Amelia commended him. "My great-grandfather, I believe, served on the council for almost two hundred years."

"Did he really!" Anais exclaimed, impressed at Mr Bones' longevity.

"That's not uncommon," Ogden told Anais with an enthusiastic nod. "There aren't any fixed terms for Elders whose membership isn't dependent on their role at the Ministry. They often serve a life time."

"Which can be problematic," Adolphus said, somewhat sorely. "Grudges and favouritism set in, and you can only imagine the kinds of rivalries and bonds that are made over an entire century."

"Quite right," Amelia agreed, equally unhappily. "I think I'd be jolly good to get some new blood into the Wizengamot – stop it getting stale."

"You asked about resignation and suspension," Ogden said genially, leaning forwards in his seat. She had clearly brought up a subject that interested him. "Your brother's situation is unusual indeed, Miss Selwyn. There aren't many wizards who have ever handled the interests of three counties at once."

Adolphus bristled, looking incredibly snug. Anais subtly rolled her eyes, though deep down she was very proud of him too.

"Adophus'll be in charge of Bedfordshire until a new candidate can be found to join the Wizengamot. It's very serious business and can take a long while. I'm sure Elphias Doge will have some good ideas about his successor."

"He's leaving the council for good?" Yaxley interrupted leeringly.

"Not really," Amelia told him, with a stern look. "He's slowing down a little. He deserves to at his age! We've asked him to stay on in an advisory capacity."

"There are so few with his kind of knowledge and flair for interpreting law," Adolphus said with a pointed look at Yaxley. "I'm glad we're not losing him completely."

"Suspensions are rare things indeed," Ogden continued. "Crouch was the first person to invoke one since 1873. If Lucius Malfoy's suspension isn't over turned your brother could look into long-term occupancy. Archie Macmillan has sat for two counties for ooh, twenty years now."

"And no one's challenged him or come forward to take over administration for one of them?" Anais asked, shooting a look at Adolphus, who was watching Tiberius Ogden intently.

"Oh, they've come forward and they've challenged," Tiberius said knowingly. "But he's won the people over. They don't want anyone else. Of course it's different with you Adolphus. Lucius Malfoy won't let that county go if he can help it. I don't trust him as far as I could throw him with a Hurling Hex."

"I know what you mean," Rufus said, spearing a piece of his chicken. "Oh, his story checked out – about being bewitched by You Know Who – but still."

"Those Malfoys have always been self serving, him and his father before him," Tiberius Ogden insisted. "Wiltshire's better off without them."

"I have found Lucius Malfoy to be very good company," Adolphus countered firmly. "He hasn't given me the slightest bit of trouble. He seems a good chap who's been through a bad patch. It's all mindless prejudice. He's devoted to that county. I won't hear a word said against him."

His tone left no one in doubt that all conversation to do with Lucius Malfoy was over with.

There was an awkward silence.

Tiberius Ogden looked quite abashed.

Anais bowed her head over her plate, trying to conceal the proud smile on her face. She felt a wave of gratitude towards her brother for defending Lucius. When she straightened up and resumed eating she was confronted by Dora's huge, green eyes staring at her from across the table. The other witch quickly looked away and made a point of not looking at Anais for the rest of the meal.

Anais couldn't say she minded being ignored by Dora, but what she'd done to deserve the flat, cold stare she'd received left her feeling very puzzled indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note:** Anais is pronounced 'an-eye-es'. Thank you to all my readers, reviewers and my beta readers Katy & Charlotte – you guys are awesome.

_From the top of the flight  
>Of the wide, white stairs<br>Through the rest of my life  
>Do you wait for me there?<em>

_There's a bell in my ears  
>There's a wide white roar<br>Drop a bell down the stairs  
>Hear it fall forevermore<em>

_Sawdust & Diamonds ~ Joanna Newsom_

**Chapter Three**

Anais landed hard on the pavement, the crack of her Apparating reverberated off the stones. There was an almost Mediterranean feeling out on the cobbles of Diagon Alley tonight. Witches and wizards were sat outside restaurants, laughing, eating, drinking and basking in the copper rays of a sinking sun. There was still a queue to get served at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and shop assistants were closing up to head off to the Leaky Cauldron for well deserved after work drinks.

Adolphus and Dora appeared either side of her, each with an echoing _crack_. Anais had felt a bit overdressed, standing in the road by herself. Now she felt much less like a sore thumb. She was wearing a short, pale blue silk cocktail dress with her long blonde hair in a stylish up-do. Anais felt very self conscious. It wasn't often that she wore diamonds and this much make-up. She didn't feel exactly herself.

Dora on the other hand was completely at ease in a shapeless dress that was made of an emerald material that glimmered like beetle wings. When she walked she wafted a thick cloud of White Lilies perfume that made Anais' eyes water. Adolphus, with his clean-cut, wholesome features and smartly tailored ensemble looked like a Quaffle & Snitch poster boy.

"It's this way," Dora said over her shoulder, to Anais who was following meekly behind, "just beside the Prospero Theatre. Are you sure you've never been before?"

"I don't remember it," Anais told her for about the third time.

"I didn't come here until I was about 21," Adolphus said mildly. "We were always _Psychedelic Serpent_ types, weren't we?"

He smiled over his shoulder and winked at her. The _Psychedelic Serpent_ was a nightclub that all the Selwyns had frequented at one time or another - mostly during their Hogwarts summer holidays, when it was still technically illegal for them to be out drinking.

"No ID and girls go free!" the siblings said in sing-song voices at the same time.

They both started laughing.

"Honestly," Dora sniffed disapprovingly.

They were now crossing the road. Anais looked up and saw _Gastronomical_ written in giant-sized handwriting on the wall of a building. Nine planets were silently orbiting the sign, the lights in their bellies cast fuzzy colourful halos against the brickwork. Out on the pavement two neatly manicured flutterby bushes blinked their leaves in the balmy evening air. A purple velvet carpet like a lizards tongue lead into the shadowy mouth of the restaurant.

The small group made their way down a narrow flight of stairs lit by little orbs, the replicas of planets. They emerged in wide lobby with a low ceiling. It was a bit like being in a velvet lined cave. It was very dark in here except for the light spilling through a gilt archway set into the wall. Anais could see lines of multicoloured cloaks and capes hanging up on golden coat stands.

"We're here for the Dragon Benefit Ball," Adolphus told a short, plump witch wearing a pillbox hat and silk robes in a rather hideous shade of puce green.

"Coat and bag check 'ere. No photography wivout a pass. Refreshments bein' served in the Grand Hall. Dinner's at 8pm. Enjoy your evenin'," she said in a bored voice. "Anyfink to check?"

Adolphus paid an excessive amount to check their coats and bags. He received a small silvery token, a bit like a Sickle, which he pocketed. The Grand Hall was right behind them through a door pretending to be part of the velvet lined wall. Once Anais had stepped through it she was transported to another kind of place entirely.

It was pleasantly bright and very noisy. They had appeared on the wide plateau atop a magnificent golden staircase. The restaurant was large and circular, rimmed by purple velvet booths both on this level and down in the pit below. Overhead glowing moons gave light to the scenes below. Anais peered over the golden railings which were embossed with stars and saw a black marble dance-floor. Pooled around the edge were round tables draped in gold lamé tablecloths and set for twelve.

On a podium a gold robed band was playing 60's soul tunes. There was a line of wizards all with blue-black skin and voices like caramel crooning into microphones on one side of the stage. Echoing right back at them were three, round witches in spangling gold gowns, clicking and swaying in time to the music. The main singer was a tall, nobly witch with a towering black beehive and two slicks of eyeliner like war paint. To the right of the stage a bar was being swamped by customers. The staff were pouring shots and mixing drinks so quickly it looked as if someone had put an Acceleration Jinx on them.

Adolphus went off to battle his way to the bar and Dora instantly abandoned Anais, which she couldn't say she minded. It left her free to lean on the railings and take in the scene. The atmosphere was that of a party well under way. She scanned the room fascinated in equal measures by the domed ceiling, which was an exact map of the summer constellations, and the luridly dressed guests.

Anais recognised a surprising amount of guests. She was becoming quite familiar with Adolphus' friends and allies on the Wizengamot and in government. Albert Runcorn, an enormous black wizard in royal purple robes, was slouched against one of the nearby booths talking to a witch with short, milky-tea coloured hair who was wearing white high-waisted deck trousers and a yellow silk blouse.

Even from behind Anais recognised this person at once. Rosamund McTavish was the only person she knew who could wear yellow and still look good. She also happened to be Anais' best friend.

"Rosamund!" Anais called at once, striding towards her. "Rosie!"

Rosamund turned around and her face broke into an enormous smile. Hurriedly she bid goodbye to Runcorn and bee-lined for Anais.

"Hello stranger!" she grinned, throwing her arms wide. The two friends hugged tightly, swaying on the spot a little.

"It's so nice to see you. You look great!"

Rosamund batted away the praise with a wave of her hand and a shake of her head. She was soft featured with rosy cheeks and freckles across her little nose. She had an endless knowledge of WWN audio drama scripts and gave off a calm, collected aura of effortless cool.

"I didn't know you were coming tonight. I'm so glad you're here! I've got so much to tell you!"

"Come and sit with us," Rosamund beckoned. "Ambrosius has got Edgar Nott playing '_A Raven is Like a Writing-Desk'_. It's getting impressively crude."

"Of course it is," Anais said sardonically. Ambrosius had a knack for being able to lower the tone in two seconds flat. "How's Healer training going?"

"Never a dull moment," Rosamund said scrunching up her cute, slightly freckled face. "Tentacle Man and Fleshing Eating Skin Man have been keeping me busy."

"Flesh eating skin man?" Anais clarified. "As in, '_Grr, I am an Inferi, come to eat your brains'_ flesh-eating?"

Rosamund laughed. "No, that was last week. This guy's got a tropical disease that makes his legs look like he's smothered them in Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent. It's unreal - you can see down to his knee joints and it stinks - poor thing."

"What's his treatment like?" Anais asked curiously, wondering what potions they'd tried and what they planned to use.

"Missing work already, are we?" Rosamund grinned. "Whatever we do it just doubles the amount of pus. Why don't you come and work for St Mungo's? You can help me crack the case."

"As a matter of fact I've got something in the pipeline."

"Really? What's new with you?" Rosamund asked eagerly.

"Adolphus has got some plans for me, but I've been developing some potions. I'm thinking about…"

Anais trailed off.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning languidly in the corner of the booth they had just approached. She had the sensation of going up in an elevator her spirits rose so quickly. Tonight he was wearing deep green robes and a look of unguarded amusement.

"A haddock is like a prostitute because…"

Ambrosius pointed at Edgar Nott, his mouth opening and closing as he worked hard to come up with an answer. His dark hair was mussed and his cheeks were bright pink. As he thought about his answer he pulled a face that made him look constipated.

"They both sleep with the fishes?" Anais offered.

"Yes!" Ambrosius yelled, throwing his arms in the air and gesticulating wildly at Nott in a kind of frenzied triumph.

Rosamund laughed, but lowered her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose in embarrassment. Lucius raised his glass to Anais. Edgar Nott, an elderly wizard with greased back black hair and a grey goatee gave her a deeply amused look.

"Very good," he said, in a rough, throaty voice. "Unfortunately laddie, that's ten points to your sister, not you."

"No!" Ambrosius wailed, burying his face in the table top. "Selwyns stick together! We're a team. She's like…like my sub. I'm tapping out and she's…she's gonna beat you, old man."

"If only the game worked like that, brother dearest," Anais sighed, playfully tousling Ambrosius' hair.

"What have you been giving him?" Rosamund asked, sitting down beside Ambrosius and sniffing his glass. Her eyebrows shot up and she backed away from it. "He's been mainlining Firewhiskey. That explains everything."

"Not everything," Anais muttered, sliding into the seat beside Lucius. "How much Sneezewort have you had?"

Ambrosius lifted his head and grinned at her, his amber eyes slightly unfocussed.

"Tiny bit," he chuckled guiltily, gesturing with his thumb and finger.

Anais folded her arms across her chest and, trying very hard not to smile, gave him her best reproachful look. Rosamund poked Ambrosius hard in the ribs. "What have I told you?" she scolded him. "Your brain could fall out your nose if you take too much."

"You're looking radiant tonight," Lucius said appraisingly, drawing Anais' attention from Ambrosius' antics.

She found herself tracing the faint lines around his eyes, around his mouth, navigating his face like a map. His pale, pointed face was bathed gold by the candles. He had a magnificent nose, Anais thought. It was regal, with a noble arching bridge, and a sharp nipped tip. She wanted to run her finger along it.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Rosamund, have you met Lucius Malfoy? He's the most devilishly attractive, extraordinarily intelligent - what was it - _outstandingly talented_? -"

" - devastatingly Self-deprecating -" Lucius offered lazily, nursing his drink and giving her a side-ways smirk.

" - wizard you will ever meet," Anais finished, grinning broadly.

"Oh really?" Rosamund asked doubtfully.

A highly incredulous expression crossed her face as she looked between Lucius and Anais.

"I was very rude, wasn't I?" Anais asked, cringing slightly.

"You were, but I bore it as best as I could," Lucius said heavily, teasing her as always. "How are you?"

He turned his full attention towards her and she felt as if she was a meteorite sucked into his orbit.

"I'm very well. Thank you for the polar bear post. They were the prettiest roses I've ever seen."

"You're the prettiest rose I've ever seen."

Anais rolled her eyes, trying to make light of the compliment. He fixed her with his slate grey eyes that shimmered like boiling metal in the half-light.

"I keep trying to bump into you at Selwyn Abbey, but apparently you're never home. Adolphus says you're going to be quite the social butterfly."

"I don't plan to make a career out of it." Anais' mind cleared a little at the mention of her family home. "That house is crammed with the worst kind of memories for me. I don't like being there if I can help it. Besides, after three years away I'm hopelessly out of touch with everyone."

Lucius shifted, resting his arm lazily along the back of the booth's sofa so that Anais occupied the reach of it. She noticed how snug she felt beside him. One of his legs pressed against hers. His thigh was warm and solid and for a flash she found herself wondering if the rest of his body would feel equally pleasant pressing against her.

"You won't find it too difficult to slip back into society. Your family name means something, which will save you from falling in with the undesirable set."

"Am I desirable?"

"Oh, Anais, I think you know the answer to that question," he said unblinkingly.

Anais' stomach somersaulted.

She bowed her head and tried to hide a smile. She played with the flames of the tea light candles in the centre of the table making them stretch and sway. The idea that Lucius Malfoy found her desirable made her stomach coil in a way that not at all unpleasant.

Lucius, who had been observing her intently, caught a tendril of her golden hair between his fingers. As he tucked it behind her ear his cool fingertips brushed against her earlobe making her body buzz around her like a nest of bees.

"Tell me a secret," she said in a low voice, leaning into his collar where she caught the menthol, masculine scent of his cologne.

"Tilda Whitehorn's lover has just left her."

"That's not a secret about you," Anais said briskly. "Tell me a secret."

She hadn't missed the allusion in his words, but decided it was best to quietly file that information away.

"Very well." Lucius looked down at his glass of whiskey and traced the rim with his long fingered gentleman's hands. "I can't stop thinking about you."

She felt his pale eyes fall heavily upon her, forcing her down, suffocating her like a powerful wave. Anais rested her chin on her hand and surveyed Lucius.

"Is that so? You must be very bored," she teased.

"_Oh, I am__,"_ Lucius drawled, his lip curling.

Anais' smile widened. She let his words hang in the air and dabbled with the candles again.

"Let me get you a drink."

"There's a huge queue at the bar. I don't mind going without," Anais told him.

"I've got a tab. If you could drink anything in the world right now what would it be?"

"Redcurrant rum and pink lemonade."

"At the same time?" Lucius gave her a reproachful look. "We'll have to change those school-girl habits. I thought the French would have educated your palate."

"You said I could have anything in the world!" Anais said, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes. "I like wine but right now I'm in the mood for something fun and fruity."

"Fun and fruity, eh?" he asked, his voice rich with amusement. "What will you be having – Rosamund? Nott? Selwyn Minor?"

Lucius got in a round of drinks for everyone. He conjured glasses with his wand and filled each one with their various requests. All throughout the meal whenever anyone was running low he slyly topped it up, often without them noticing. Twice Anais caught Ambrosius giving his glass a bemused look.

The dinner for the Dragon Benefit Ball was exquisite. There were no waiters, just golden plates onto which the food magically appeared, fresh from the kitchen.

"It looks like we're at the Beards Convention of 1872 up here," Lucius said, not troubling to keep his voice down as he peered over the top of their booth as they tucked into their food. "Even the women up here have beards."

"That's cruel," Anais chided. "It isn't attached – look, it's a fur stole."

"That warlock over there looks like he could be descended from dragons," Adolphus said rather loudly, pointing with his fork.

There was a collective snort of laughter as they all peered across the room at a rather unfortunate looking wizard.

"Or perhaps he was feeling festive and tried a bit of self transfiguration?" Nott speculated.

There was another bout of badly hushed laughter and much sniggering.

"Stop it! All of you! Tiberius Ogden says a Dragon sanctuary in the UK is a very important conservational cause," Anais said sarcastically.

"Psh," Rosamund muttered. "We've got Wales. I'm just here for the food."

"Here here!" Ambrosius agreed, tossing a shrimp into his mouth and raising his glass to her. Rosamund mirrored his toast and slopped her cocktail over both of them.

"Shall I sign you up for the Sponsor a Dragon Scheme?" Lucius asked Anais. "_Just a galleon a month will buy your dragon a meter of Muggle-free air space_."

"Have you thought about a career in advertising? I think you'd do exceptionally well," she teased.

He inclined his head to her. "I'll take that as a compliment and add it to my list of useless talents."

The conversation skipped satirically through history and philosophy, came dangerously close to politics before swerving off into left field. By the end of the dessert course they were playing a vicious game of Bed, Wed or Dead. Anais couldn't remember that last time she'd had this much fun at a stuffy Ministry event.

"Bed, Wed or Dead…" Ambrosius said in an elaborate whisper, his amber eyes scanning the room. "Algernon Collins, Maynard Wadcock and Montague Meacher."

They were all hunched forwards, heads very close together, so as not to be overheard. Anais looked between an enormous wizard wearing lurid robes, a potato nosed warlock and a rather average looking gentlewizard with no hair at all.

"I'll have to marry Meacher. They say baldness is caused by high levels of the male hormone and I want a man who can… well…"

Ambrosius snorted.

"Keep it up?" Edgar Nott offered, "Yes, that is a vital step in producing an heir," he added with dignity.

"I'll bed Collins and kill Wadcock. I mean, what if I accidentally had his love-child and they inherited that nose?"

It was Lucius' turn to laugh.

"Now, I get to pick for you," Anais said with relish, turning to Lucius.

"Uh oh! Now you're in for it," Ambrosius warned. "She's always been ruthless with this sort of thing."

"Watch and learn, brother dearest," Anais said, waving her hand for quiet. "The trick with Bed, Wed or Dead isn't to line up the lesser of three evils – observe. Bed, Wed or Dead: Daphne Fawcett, Tilda Whitehorn and… _me_."

Anais was surprised at her own bravado. There was a communal intake of breath and much muttering and shaking of heads. Rosamund gave Anais an I-can't-believe-you sort of look and returned to prodding the melting wax in one of the tea light ramekins.

"Oh, that's difficult," Lucius intoned, his eyes narrowing as he thought.

Daphne Fawcett was a short, slim, fine featured brunette and Tilda Whitehorn, although a potential ex-lover, was rich, powerful and darkly alluring.

"I shall have to kill…this _is_ difficult…If I married Tilda I'd probably kill her anyway... but do I spare myself the misery of an unhappy marriage and kill her outright?" Lucius mused.

"See!" Anais chimed.

"Should I kill _you_?" Lucius wondered, fixing her with a thoughtful look. This was greeted with a rumble of both disagreement and ascent from the other players. "It would spare you getting all tangled up in me – but do I want that? I'd be worried if I were you. You're at my mercy now, Anais."

Anais tingled under his cold, ruthless eyes.

"Are you merciful?"

"No," Lucius replied, still not taking his eyes off of hers. "I'm not merciful. Daphne Fawcett isn't my type at all. She's much too olive skinned and her stance on muggle-baiting is appalling. I think I shall have to kill -"

Lucius never got to finish this sentence because Horatio Crabbe, who had organized the event, got up to announce the raffle results. Anais was visibly deflated by this interruption. She was very interested in the curve of Lucius' mind.

He absently topped up her drink.

"You aren't trying to get me drunk are you?" she whispered in his ear, folding into his side, already very giddy.

"What sort of wizard do you think I am?" Lucius inquired pretending to be affronted.

"I haven't decided yet. What sort of witch do you think I am?"

"A devious one."

He smiled wolfishly, his teeth glinting in the candlelight.

"I'm not. Not really," Anais told him. Disbelief was written all over his face and he continued to smile his cutlass smile. "Is that what you really think of me?"

He gave her a steady, somewhat stern look. She held his gaze. Lucius shifted, leaning back into the corner of the booth. Anais felt something indefinable in the atmosphere being sucked from around her like the pull of a tide and she was sliding with it, sliding towards Lucius. He was reading her just liked he'd read polar skies.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if I think you're going to have to be."

The lights dimmed and the music started up. It was a lively song, the kind that makes your feet tap and shoulders sway before you can even stop them. Anais frowned but held Lucius' penetrating gaze. What did he mean?

"Dance with me," Anais requested, taking both of Lucius' hands in hers.

"That wouldn't be wise," he said, chaining his fingers through hers. The motion became unexpectedly sexual. She felt threading, golden, desire spread out beneath her skin and take root.

"What then?"

Lucius was smiling his most ruthless smile yet.

"Anais, come and dance."

Ambrosius tugged on her arm. He'd clambered over Rosamund and was now clumsily trying to pull Anais out of her seat.

"Come on! I want to dance! We'll miss it!"

Anais protested, but Ambrosius was determined.

"Alright, alright!" Anais cried, slipping free of Lucius' gentle gravity as she was pulled away by her brother.

He'd sobered up a lot. In fact the moment they were in the heart of the dance-floor jiving and bouncing to the music he said, quite soberly, "What were you and Malfoy whispering about?"

Anais laughed. "Nothing you need to worry about," she said merrily, as he swung her into the air and deftly caught her again.

"Adolpuhs might be enamoured by him, but I think the Malfoys are up to something," Ambrosius told her with a dark look up to the balcony where Lucius was now talking to Bertie Higgs.

"What makes you think that?" she asked. "I thought you liked Lucius?"

"I'll tell you some other time," Ambrosius said evasively. "Now's not a good place to talk, but I've been hearing some interesting rumours about him. Just watch your step around him."

Anais didn't push the issue but she was keen to hear more.

They tore up the dance floor together, spinning and dipping, exhilarated by their own antics. Anais danced almost every dance with a different partner. She tried to convince herself that she was networking as it was possible to have brief, snatched conversations with her partners, all of whom were well placed in the Ministry to be useful to her and her brothers. However, if she was honest her true motive was to make Lucius jealous. It was pretty childish, but she'd been disappointed that he'd rebuffed her.

She'd almost given up hope. The night was drawing to a close. As she was dancing with John Dawlish Anais caught sight of Adolphus, Ambrosius and Yaxley all clumped together looking surly. She wondered what they were up to. As the song ended she thought about going over to join them. It was getting very late. Perhaps they were bored and wanted to leave soon?

"I can take over from here, Dawlish," Lucius said curtly.

Anais turned from her ponderings. Lucius' eyes thrust into her, so sensually direct, she felt hot all over. In the dim red-gold light his eyes shone mercury which highlighted the tumultuous heat close to the surface.

"You said you wouldn't dance," Anais said as he approached. She was glad he'd changed his mind.

Lucius took her waist in his hands. He smoothed his palms down her body, one settling on her hip the other expanding to fill the space at the small of her back, drawing her close to him.

"I said it wouldn't be wise," Lucius corrected.

Ambrosius' warning echoed in her ears as she ran her hands up Lucius' arms. His platinum hair tickled her bare skin as she draped her arms around his neck. Ogden and Scrimgeour had said not to trust him either. What did they know that she didn't?

"Well, I'm glad you decided to be unwise tonight," she said triumphantly.

They found a languid, easy rhythm. Anais became incrementally more aware of her body and Lucius. She was stretched out over his torso so that her breasts and stomach were pressing against him. With every movement she felt the layers of their clothing shift. Her pulse quickened. A warm ache started up deep down in her body.

As they danced Anais' head became full of the scent of Lucius' skin and hair: minty and dark with a hint of clove and sweat. She wanted to slide her fingers through his hair and close the space between their lips, between their hips. Instead she watched his pulse throbbing in his neck and thought of her own unsteady breaths that trembled against the hollow of his throat. She wondered what his skin would feel on her lips. She wondered how it would taste.

"Tell me a secret," Lucius said softly.

His lips were so close to her ear that when he spoke she could almost feel them against her skin. Anais felt as if she was melting. She raked her nails subtly against Lucius' scalp and curled her fingers through a fistful of his hair.

He had been right. Dancing together was an unwise decision. Several very secret thoughts were running through her head, all of them involving the two of them alone.

"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you," she said. Her voice had turned husky and low.

Anais lifted her head from Lucius' shoulder. His eyelids were as heavy as she felt and his black pupils were huge. She recognised that look and it thrilled her.

"I can keep a secret," he murmured, his sweet, brandy soaked breath tickling her cheek. His eyes flickered hotly over her face, drinking her in.

Her wicked smile mirrored his. Anais looked around the dance-floor to check that they couldn't be overheard. Lucius knew what she was thinking; nothing else would have made him look at her as if he wanted to devour her.

"Come on," he wheedled, his fingers flexing against the small of her back.

The dull, white noise pleasure Anais had been feeling became concentrated and sharp edged as Lucius urged her hips into the heat of his body. She had the briefest impression of what made him so very manly in the cradle of his pelvis. Her heart missed a beat and her cheeks filled with colour.

"God, the things I want to do to you right now," Anais muttered, clinging to him tighter than before.

"Hot little minx, aren't you?" he remarked gleefully.

"I could teach you a thing or two," Anais retorted.

Lucius' ecstatic laugh of delighted disbelief rose, only to be drowned out by the music. She felt it rumble through her body like a roll of thunder. The music was soothing, lulling, but it couldn't drown out the firework explosions erupting beneath her skin as Lucius smoothed his hand down her body.

"I do hope that's a proposition, because there are several things I've wanted to do to you all night, and I know a place where we could go…"

It was Anais' turn to laugh, but when she looked at him she saw he was serious. He was looking at her with the clarity of a bird of prey. She felt a torrent of disbelief engulf her. He couldn't be serious, could he? They hardly knew each other.

"What, now?" she found herself saying, unexpectedly wary of him.

The song had come to an end. Lucius released her but she could still feel him everywhere he had been. She felt disorientated as if she'd just stepped off a carousel. He became very still, a knife edge smile on his lips, his pale eyes flashing.

"I should go find my brothers… it's getting late…" Anais said slowly. She sounded young and unsure and so very childish.

"But of course," he said with a knowing look that she didn't understand. "Until next time then."

Lucius gave a small bow and became distant and unfathomable, fading into the crowd.

Anais felt the distance growing between them. She stood, frozen to the spot, unsure of exactly what had just taken place. What had he understood that she hadn't? And what had made her refuse him at the last second.

Feeling dazed and bewildered she meandered over to the bar, which was cleaned out and manned by an exhausted looking boy. His bow tie had come loose and he was slouching like a wilted plant. When she asked for tap water he looked relieved and poured her an ice cold pint of it. She drank it in huge grateful gulps. She was wildly thirsty.

Anais groaned and covered her tired eyes with her hands. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Lucius that she wanted to do all manner of illicit things with him. She wasn't being devious, if that's what he thought. No, just stupid. She's been crazy to refuse him at the last second. What had she been thinking! Although Anais considered herself to be reasonably pretty she didn't think she was anything special. It wasn't as if she was likely to get another shot with a wizard like Lucius Malfoy. It was all so odd though…she'd never been propositioned quite like that before… what was she supposed to have said? Anais was spared from her own self-flagellation by the approach of Dora Selwyn.

Anais watched Dora edge around the dance-floor flanked by a tall, gaunt-looking witch with flowing cornsilk hair. This witch had a cruel sort of beauty. Her features were small and sharp, and her eyes were deep blue beneath low, pointed brows.

"Darling!" Dora exclaimed in an uncharacteristically friendly tone. "I've been looking for you all evening. I want you to meet my cousin. This is Adolphus' little sister, Anais," Dora told the witch beside her.

"Hello," Anais said politely, shaking hands with the bony blonde witch.

She was sparkling with diamonds. Anais guessed she must be some sort of socialite, the kind that filled the pages of Tilda Whitehorn's high-society magazine, _The Alchemist_.

Anais looked askance at Dora. Her sister-in-law gave her a calculated look.

"This is Lucius' wife, Narcissa."

Anais looked blankly at Dora for a long moment. She was sure she must have misheard or misunderstood.

"Lucius Malfoy?" she clarified, looking stupidly from one witch to the other.

"That's right," Narcissa said patiently, with the polite smile of an ignorant wife. "Dora and I are cousins through our Rosier mothers. She's been telling me all about you."

_Lucius was married!_

Anais felt sick.

She wanted the ground to swallow her up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note:** The City of Ys is pronounced 'ees'. Thank you to all my readers, reviewers and my chief beta reader Charlotte.

**Chapter Four**

It was an unseasonably cold day. Rain lashed at the windowpanes and the wind rattled the glass as it prowled around Selwyn Abbey. Anais was curled up in one of the over-stuffed sofas in the drawing room, a heavy ledger open on her lap and a cup of tea at her side. She was writing what looked like accounts. Every now and then she would pause and consult a piece of parchment or a notebook before dipping her quill in ink and getting back to work.

The drawing room was rectangular with latticed windows that faced the small, scrubby apple orchard. Like all of the downstairs rooms it had a flagstone floor and was panelled with dark wood. The walls were adorned with trinkets and trophies of Selwyns past: an impressive display of wands, a mounted Nogtail head and a huge tapestry depicting '_The quelling of the Goblin Hoard at Hook Norton, 1298' _which had been sewn in the sixteenth century by one very bored Selwyn ancestor. The squashy sofa, merry little fire, stacks of board games and cabinet full of popular books, magazines and periodicals made this the cosiest room of the house. It was just the sort of place to spend a rainy afternoon.

Two weeks had passed since the Dragon Benefit Ball and in that time Anais had diligently avoided Lucius Malfoy. If she saw him in the cloisters at Selwyn Abbey she turned back. If he appeared at breakfast she left the room and went without. She'd only seen him out in society once. He'd tried to approach her but she'd moved away. She was angry and embarrassed, because she felt utterly foolish when she thought back on all her dealings with him. How had she not known he was married?

The fire in the grate spat and crackled. A clock ticked. Anais took a sip of her drink and turned back to tallying the cost of a large quantity of potion ingredients. One of the drawing room doors clicked and was eased slowly open. She carried on working without look up. Adolphus and Dora both hollered her name if they wanted to talk, or else left her in peace. After a long moment of stillness from whoever had entered she raised her head, thinking it might be Lacky not wanting to interrupt her.

Lucius was standing with his back against the closed door as quiet as a bucket of snow.

Anais was dowsed by a rage so complete she felt as if he'd poured hot water over her head. In an instant she was on her feet, hurling down her ledger and striding towards the drawing room's other door, anger pounding in her ears.

"No more running," Lucius snapped.

When he looked at her his eyes were cold and hard. Anais froze. She had her hand on the door handle ready to flee, but felt immobilised.

Lucius stepped into the room, his mouth thin. He paced towards the fire, turning his back on her, and she saw that his hands were fists.

"So," he said dangerously. "Here you are."

"Yes," Anais said incredulously.

She had no idea what she'd done to deserve such a display from him. She was a little angry at herself - she'd behaved foolishly and had disregarded everyone's warnings about him. But Lucius! He had seduced her, kept secrets from her, manipulated her and tricked her with such subtlety and skill she'd almost completely lost her head. She felt very acutely that if anyone had a right to be angry it was her, but as he stood beside the fire his anger eclipsed hers.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded, his long nostrils flaring.

"Done to you?" Anais asked, utterly perplexed.

"Yes," he snarled impatiently.

He gave her an imperious look that chilled the very air in the room. Despite almost the entire length of the room between them Anais took half a step back. Carefully she put her hand in the pocket of her dress and felt the reassuring length of her wand.

"What bewitchments have you used? What curses?"

Anais didn't dare reply. His handsome face was crinkled up in rage.

"I can't think. I can't eat. I can't sleep. You're always there in my thoughts. Lying beside my wife at night has become agony. How can I lie next to her with you behind my eyes?" he hissed.

"I met her, your wife," Anais said distastefully, "at the Dragon Benefit Ball. Imagine my surprise when Dora introduced me to her and not ten minutes before I'd been…"

"Telling me exactly what you were going to do with that pretty little mouth of yours? Oh, yes," he said in a scintillating whisper as he stalked towards her. "I've not forgotten what you promised me that night."

"I had no idea you were married!" Anais cried, her voice rising. "I was shocked – stunned - you lied to me!"

"You didn't know? Do you expect me to believe that?" He gave her a contemptuous look.

"No one ever mentioned her," Anais said angrily. "And you gave me no reason to think you had a _wife_ tucked away somewhere. How long have you even been married?"

"Eight years," he replied coldly.

He came to a halt very close to her. She could feel heat emanating from him in powerful waves that broke against her. Anais obstinately stood her ground. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins making her feel fearless and justified.

"Do you have any children?" she demanded.

"A son. Draco," Lucius replied abruptly.

"How old?"

"He'll be four in June."

"Would Narcissa like more children?"

"I presume so," Lucius said, his eyes narrowing to icy slits.

"Do you love her?"

He sneered as if her question was offensive to him. His refusal to answer made her more determined to get a reply.

"Do you?"

"Yes," he snarled.

Even though he sounded unwilling to admit this Anais felt struck through, as if he had speared her. A sharp physical contusion of pain shivered in her chest and she slapped him hard.

She wasn't aware of thinking or raising her hand. It was the flat, harsh explosion of sound that brought her back to the room. Lucius seized her wrist, his eyes bayoneting her. Their eyes locked. His furious expression mirrored hers. Breathing heavily, with her face screwed up into a deep frown, Anais opened her mouth to call him several choice names but instead found she was kissing him hard on the mouth.

He was hot and smooth and tasted like red wine. She crushed herself against him, smarting and bruising beneath his stony hands. Anais' heart beat savagely hard in her chest. Her insides were melting like wax. She captured the voluptuous pout of his bottom lip and bit down on his smirking mouth. She wanted to make him hurt. Make him bleed.

His growl of discomfort satisfied her in a violent, primal way that startled her. Lucius' fingers turned thorny as he wrenched her from him. There was a cold, hard fury in his eyes and something rippling beneath the surface, something fascinating and forbidden. Anais felt disturbed at her core, thrown off kilter, like a compass confused by a magnet.

Lucius raised his hand gingerly to his lip. He was bleeding, deep scarlet drops blossoming.

"I keep dreaming of you," he confessed, his eyes alight with a feverish, fanatical glow. "I dream of raging seas and lightning struck skies, of tolling bells and the city of Ys," he paused to lick the blood from his lips.

Anais stood very still.

"A fine princess Dahut you make," he continued, brushing his fingertips along her collarbone. Her skin tingled deliciously at his touch. "Your pact with devil has made your city a Babylon beside the sea. You're merciless, fucking your way through sailors and sea captains and strangling them in the dawn. I steal in one night, red clad and cunning, and take that bronze key from between your breasts. Together we open the city gates and the sea pours in. We drown together. I drown in you."

Lucius' hands crept around her neck. His thumbs stroked a dangerously tender path along her throat. Again, she was aware of the dreamy melting sensation deep in her body. Anais swallowed hard.

"I could break you," he crooned.

"Then do it," Anais said roughly.

He was looking at her deeply enough to see right through her. She stared back, hypnotised. He was completely unreadable. He was as likely to kiss her as he was to kill her. She tightened her grip on the wand in her pocket. The moment his fingers bore down she would strike. She already knew the curse that she'd use.

Lucius began to laugh, a quiet smoky laugh. He released her from his seaweedy grasp, his lip curling as a look of steely admiration trickled across his flushed face.

"There aren't many witches who can tempt me," he told her, dabbing at his mouth, which had now stopped bleeding.

"Am I supposed to be flattered by that?" Anais asked tersely.

"Aren't you? You should be," he retorted, walking over to the fireplace and leaning against the sleek wooden mantelpiece. "Narcissa knows I stray when I have to - when it serves a purpose - but you... you're something else entirely."

The light of the fire turned him into a black silhouette, as blank and harmless as sugar paper. Anais felt the world expand as she took a steadying breath. She noticed the tinny sound of the rain speckling the windowpanes and the great gusting bellows of the wind in the chimney. She saw the sleek wood and twill of the furniture and the dark geometric thistles in the old Axeminster rug.

"I haven't cursed you," Anais said quietly, "or slipped you a Love Potion. I haven't bewitched you, though you've been under the Imperius Curse, so you'd know what that feels like, wouldn't you?"

She gave him a lofty look. Instantly his face split into a smirk.

He tilted his head and looked at her as if admiring the many facets of a jewel.

"Well, well, well," he began silkily. "And I thought you had no subtlety. I'd started to believe you were the sort of girl who laughed when she was happy and cried when she was sad. I thought you were too young."

"I'm old enough."

"So I've noticed," Lucius said swiftly, willing her to remember his fingers curling into her body and the steady drip of her desire. "I knew you were devious. You _are_ a Selwyn, I shouldn't have underestimated you. But where do we go from here?"

"Go from here?"

Lucius opened his mouth to speak but he broke off. They could hear someone out in the cloisters. Anais stiffened and looked quickly between Lucius and the closed door. The sound of approaching feet on the stones grew louder.

It was Adolphus.

"Ah, Lucius. Here you are. I was hoping to catch you before you left," he said genially, as he strode unselfconsciously into the room. "I've just realised - "

He saw Anais standing in the centre of the room and paused, looking surprised. She wasn't sure if this was because she was very pale or if he'd expected Lucius to be speaking to someone else.

" - I can't make the ballet on the twenty fifth," he picked up, turning back to Lucius. "I've got a supper with potential Bedfordshire Elders that night. Terribly sorry. Dora's at the same committee meeting as Narcissa, so she can't go either."

Adolphus' quick blue eyes looked from Lucius to Anais, an idea forming in his mind.

"I tell you what, why doesn't Anais go with you?" he suggested.

"Adolphus, I don't know -"

" - A fine plan, indeed," Lucius cut in, shooting Anais a triumphant look. "It would be a shame to waste the ticket."

"It really is a once in a lifetime chance," Adolphus told Anais. "It's just the kind of thing you like best, Anais. Besides, you haven't been to _The Prospero_ _Theatre_ in years."

"Some people would sell their wand to see the Russians dance The Warlock's Hairy Heart," Lucius added, subtly mocking Adolphus.

Anais could see she had very little choice in the matter. Her brother had made his mind up.

"It sounds delightful," she remarked coolly.

"Excellent," Adolpus said, clapping his hands together. "Well, I'm glad that's cleared that up."

"I need to be off," Lucius told Adolphus, after a cursory glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. "I've a lunch appointment with a very unforgiving three year old boy. Until next time," he said to Anais, inclining his head.

"Goodbye," she said cordially, forcing a smile.

"I'll owl you on Thursday as soon as I get a copy of Madam Bones' report," Adolphus called after Lucius.

"I look forward to it," came the distant reply.

Neither Anais nor Adolphus moved until the door clapped shut.

She let out a long, measured breath. Adolphus caught her eye but didn't speak immediately. He was listening to Lucius' receding footsteps. A door slammed and both the siblings imperceptibly relaxed.

"You look like you're going to vomit," Adolphus remarked. "Shall I call the Elf to get you something?"

Anais shook her head. "I'm fine."

"What did he want with you?"

Anais considered not telling Adolphus what had passed between her and Lucius. Her first impulse was to keep it a secret. She didn't want to get in the way of whatever political arrangement the two of them had. She also didn't fancy trying to describe what had just happened while her mind was still in disarray. However, dealing in secrets seemed to be Lucius' specialty and she was sure he expected her to keep that conversation between the two of them. But to what end? It was her distrust of his motives more than anything else that made her speak up.

"I think he wants me to be his mistress."

"Does he really?" Adolphus chuckled, a salacious smile twisting his mouth. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

"I didn't say I would," Anais said defensively.

"Did you say you wouldn't?"

He gave her a stern look.

"I didn't have the chance!" she said hotly. "You came in – and then insisted on me going to the ballet with him."

"Oh, I need you to go with him," Adolphus assured her. "In fact, if he's pursuing you, that makes things a lot easier."

"Why, what are you plotting?"

Adolphus slipped a silver cigarette case out of his pocket. Anais sat down on the sofa, coiling herself up. She slipping a shawl around her shoulders for comfort and watched as he tossed his head and smoothed his hair. He took a drag on his cigarette and was obscured by a haze of orange smoke.

"Your hard-to-get act might actually have worked in our favour. He needs something to distract him at the minute. You might be just the thing I need to keep him at bay." Adolphus seemed to be thinking out loud because he wasn't making much sense.

"I don't want anything to do with your schemes," Anais said flatly. "I thought I'd paid for my freedom by staying in France. I didn't come back just so that you could pimp me out to further your political career."

"I'm not asking that of you," Adolphus said curtly. "I need someone I can trust, which leaves me precious few options. I can make it worth your while. I just need you to help me make sure Lucius doesn't get onto the Wizengamot council."

"Is this about the Wiltshire seat?"

"It's not that simple," Adolphus said shortly. "Of course we'll be more influential if we can keep hold of another county. The lay folk would have a better time of it if I stayed in charge. There's a good reason for people wanting to keep Lucius Malfoy out of power. Crouch is determined to keep him out, but if it came to a vote… well, who knows what a Death Eater wouldn't do?"

"That's rich, coming from you," Anais remarked, folding her arms across her chest. Adolphus laughed humourlessly.

"The Malfoys like being lords of the manor but they don't care about the law. The law is what I've been brought up to love. With our connections, our rank in society, our family history do you think I could have done anything else?"

"Wait a second," Anais interrupted. "You told me Crouch was the one who was certain that Lucius wasn't a Death Eater – that he'd been put under the Imperius Curse. Why would he want to keep Lucius away from politics if he knew he was innocent?"

"Lucius _was_ a Death Eater," Adolphus said with an unpleasant smile. "We didn't run in the same circles but apparently he was very important - perhaps even more important than Rookwood. I don't know how the Malfoys bribed Crouch but it makes me furious that they can get him to do their bidding. If they can do that with him, then some old Wizengamot Elder won't stand a chance, and he'll push through all kinds of crooked and unsavoury laws."

"I thought you liked Lucius."

"I thought you did," retorted Adolphus, shooting her a dark look. "It seems we've all been playing our roles well. I like the power they've loaned me. The Dark Lord's downfall and Father's death has left this family in a precarious position. I was banking on a steep rise to the top of the Wizengamot. Instead I'm stuck on the edges being used as quick step back into polite society by Lucius Malfoy."

"Perhaps you should have thought more carefully about what the Dark Lord would ask of us," Anais said in a churlish undertone.

Adolphus made a harsh sound and ran his hands roughly through his hair.

"Oh, yes, Anais! _I _should have thought more carefully. Because I had such a _choice_ in the matter! It was kill or be killed - "

"- and you chose - "

"- yes! I chose to kill -"

"- but it was _him_. You killed…" Anais' voice cracked, and her throat and eyes were burning. She blinked hard, embarrassed by the unexpected onslaught of tears.

She remembered in a nightmarish haze being hauled from her bed and dragged to this very room. She'd recognised him by his slippers, his body crumpled on the floor. Anais pushed back the memories of hooded figures, of the Dark Lord's blank red eyes, of Ambrosius silently crying and Adolphus, ashen and clammy, his wand-hand trembling as he looked down at the empty shell of a person.

"He'd have made you do it," Adolphus said quietly. His brow was bent into an anxious frown, his eyes fixed on a spot on the hearth, remembering. "Or Ambrosius. Hate me if it makes you feel better but I did it to protect both of you. I didn't know what was to come… I couldn't always keep the war out of this house but Anais, please believe me that I tried."

This was the first time they'd ever spoken about what had happened during the war. Anais had spent a lot of her time in Paris trying to forget what had happened, trying to blot out the nightmares and the bursts of fear that sometimes gripped her in the night. She'd tried to absolve herself by working with the sickest patients at the hospital, by pushing herself to brew and invent potions that would save and improve lives. Now, as she watched Adolphus chain smoking and absently smoothing his hair again though there was no need, she began to wonder what toll it had taken on him.

"I don't see how I can stop Lucius from getting onto the High Wizard Council," Anais said after a long interlude of silence.

"You could keep him away from our allies," Adolphus said, the strength coming back into his voice. "He can't be open about what he's doing. From what I've gathered his father is keen to keep him out of politics to avoid any further disgrace to the family name. That means Lucius can't use his father's connections. I think he'll try to barter, bargain and blackmail our family connections into doing what he wants. If you'd seen him networking at the Dragon Benefit Ball…" Adolphus let out a low whistle.

"Perhaps I did," Anais said uneasily. "What if he thought he could change my allegiance by seducing me? If he wanted to destabilise your power it makes sense he'd try to break up our family."

"Go for the heart, so to speak," Adolphus muttered, sucking hard on his third cigarette. "It's all speculation, but from what I've heard I wouldn't put it past him."

Anais put her head in her hands. She felt drained. Her thoughts were spinning like a weathervane in high wind.

"Could you do it?" Adolphus asked, breaking the silence.

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be seduced. Keep him away from our allies. Be my spy. Whatever you want to call it. You weren't really falling for him, were you?" Adolphus cocked his eyebrow satirically.

Anais hesitated. Adolphus was showing a lot of confidence in her, confidence which in all honesty, she didn't have in herself. She had fallen into Lucius' trap. She perhaps still was.

"What will you give me if I say yes?" Anais asked, deflecting the question.

Adolphus shifted, plucking a stray piece of tobacco from his tongue. He flicked it away and continued to examine his fingers for a moment longer.

"What do you want?" he asked her lightly.

"I want you to promise me that after this I'm free," Anais said at once. "I don't want any part in your future schemes. I want out. And I want 180,000 galleons."

"What do you want that sort of money with? You aren't going to need to hop the country again when we're done."

"I want to start a business," Anais said, ignoring his last remark. She glanced at the ledger and the reams of parchment curled up on the sofa beside her. "I've been thinking about it for a long time. 180,000 would allow me to set up comfortably without touching my inheritance."

"Ah, yes, your little hobby," Adolphus said somewhat scornfully. "What would I be getting for that type of money though, Anais? Would it be worth my while?"

Anais took a deep breath. She'd been expecting this type of response. She fixed her brother with her most resolute look and said,

"I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Adolphus laughed disbelievingly.

"_Anything_," Anais assured him. "But this is the last time I risk everything for you."

"You're serious, aren't you?" he marvelled, puffing on his cigarette. An ugly smile crept across his handsome face. "The money's yours."

"And my freedom?" Anais insisted.

"That too," Adolphus added, albeit grudgingly.

"I get paid regardless of whether or not you keep his Wiltshire seat," Anais stipulated. "Your terms were to keep him at bay, and I can do that. I can't sway the Wizengamot. That's your job."

"Yes, yes," Adolphus said, waving his hand breezily. "But I expect you to do whatever's within your power. I want all the dirt you can get on him too. I'd love to know how he extorted Crouch. That'd be a powerful bargaining chip."

"One more thing," Anais added, thinking of problems she might encounter. "You have to promise me that Dora won't shop me to Narcissa."

She thought for a moment that she might have over reached herself because Adolphus gave her an odd look.

"My interests are Dora's interests," he said nonplussed. "She's a Selwyn first and foremost. Whatever ties she has to Narcissa Malfoy are nothing compared to the ambitions she has for this family."

Anais thought that perhaps he underestimated Dora's capacity to serve two masters.


End file.
